


Broken Things (Can Be Put Back Together)

by Thalestris



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Demonic Possession, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Multi, Non Linear Flashbacks, One Shot, So many flashbacks, Sorry guys, Supernatural AU - Freeform, didn't mean to have so much angst, don't know what I had originally planned but it wasn't this, oops I guess, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 14:18:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9328517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thalestris/pseuds/Thalestris
Summary: After a year, Mike is already starting to feel like he's just chasing smoke. But he keeps going. He can't think of doing anything else.(Supernatural AU where Winn gets possessed by a demon)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this [ gifset](http://monwinn.tumblr.com/post/154996390334/winn-and-mon-el-au-edition)  
> Also, detail to understand the story. Mon-El/Mike was adopted by the Danvers (because I totally prefer the bromance between him and Kara) and pretty much everyone is a hunter.

_You have three new messages_

_Beep_

_Hey, it’s Kara. Again. Dude, it’s been a month. Answer your goddamn phone! We’re all worried. Maybe you should come home for a few days, take a break and let us help you. You’re not the only who misses him. So yeah, call me back._

_Beep_

_Michael Danvers, you better answer your goddamn phone or I swear I’ll track you down and drag your sorry ass back! Come on, you’re scaring us. Just send us a text, or a call, anything so we know you’re not dead._

_Beep_

_Hey, Mike, it’s Alex. Don’t know if these messages are reaching you. By now I don’t know what to expect, really. But anyway, Maggie’s still monitoring the traffic cams like you asked and uh... there’s been a sighting. I’ll send you an email with the details. All things considered, though, I don’t know how sure we can be that it’s actually him, but... it’s the best lead we’ve had in a year so... Just thought you should know. In case you’re not... you know, dead. Try to call back, okay? It’s been a month already since the last time we’ve heard from you and we worry. Dude, even Maggie and Lena have been asking about you. Stay safe, little brother._

_Beep_

Letting out a tired sigh, Mike throws the phone on the empty passenger’s seat and starts the engine. It’s gonna be a long drive to the city. One more of the countless ones that have filled the past year. He bitterly thinks he should be accustomed by now. He’s not.

Once upon a time, he wouldn’t have been driving alone. Once upon a time, these sort of drives would have been filled with loud music and out of tune singing, silly games that Mike would roll his eyes at every time without fail but secretly enjoy, the smell of the fast food they picked up on the road when they were too far from Lena’s diner and the almost constant and soothing noise of Winn’s frantic typing. He had laughed in those times, even at the most ridiculous jokes told by his best friend and later boyfriend, easy and free despite the dark life they led.

It’s been a year since the last time he’s laughed.

Now the drives are silent, occasionally filled by the only music he can stand to listen, whatever doesn’t remind him of the empty seat next to him. His food is eaten as quickly as possible without risking choking, always with a map or a news tab open. There’s no typing to fill the silence, no stupid jokes or games to make time go by faster. Only an empty car and miles after miles of deserted highway as he chases behind an opponent that always seems to be five steps ahead of him. Dead ends. But he keeps going. He can’t stand to think of doing anything else.

oOo

_“So, what do you think our lives would be like if we were in a TV show? Like, a superhero TV show?”_

_Mike lets out the mandatory snort, despite knowing full well he’ll end up roped into his boyfriend’s antics once more._

_“A superhero TV show?”_

_Winn slaps his leg with no real heat behind it and twists slightly in Mike’s hold, angling his head so they’re looking face to face._

_“Yeah, a superhero TV show. Come on, man, it’s a game, humor me.”_

_Mike hums thoughtfully._

_“I would be... you know what, I don’t know, you tell me.”_

_“You’re no fun,” Complains Winn as he slaps Mike’s leg once more. “Okay, let’s see. You are... an alien.”_

_“An alien?”_

_“_ _Yes, an alien, now let me think. You are from planet... Daxam, which was destroyed after Krypton, Daxam’s twin planet went kaboom, sending the debris into Daxam’s orbit.”_

_“That’s kind of depressing, isn’t it?”_

_“Well, every superhero needs a tragic backstory, don’t they?”_

_“If you say so,” concedes Mike, kissing the side of Winn’s neck. “Keep going.”_

_“Now, upon arriving on Earth, after spending twelve years in a zone of space where time doesn’t go by, you’re found by Kara, who’s from Krypton. Despite your planets hating each other, you two become real good friends and she inspires you to become a superhero like her.”_

_“That’s it?”_

_“Yep, that’s it. No, wait,” he adds as an afterthought. “You tell everyone you were part of the Royal Guard, but you’re really the Prince of Daxam.”_

_Mike lets out a soft chuckle._

_“Of course you’d make me a prince. So why do I hide my royal origins?”_

_“I don’t know, you tell me,” is the cheeky answer._

_“Fair enough. And where do you fit in?”_

_“Just tech support, I guess.”_

_Now it’s Mike’s turn to gently slap Winn’s leg._

_“_ _You would be so much more than just tech support, Winn.”_

_“Alright, so you give me a backstory.”_

_“Fine. You’re... still a human. You work for a secret government agency that monitors alien life on Earth, which is how we met. You were Kara’s best friend for a long time and you helped her design her costume when she became... Supergirl.”_

_“Supergirl? That’s the best you can do?”_

_“Oh, shut up, you know I’m no good with names. But anyway, you’re the son of a supervillain, um... Toyman,” he can’t help but smile at Winn’s amused snort. “He tries to convince you to join him in the dark side, but with Kara’s help you manage to send him to jail. The end. Oh, yeah, you also help me develop the powers that I get from exposure to this solar system’s sun.”_

_“I gotta admit, that’s pretty decent.”_

_“‘Pretty decent’? It’s great!”_

_“Yeah, whatever you say, babe.”_

_“Oh, shush you.”_

_They remain in silence for a few minutes, watching the stars and listening to the distant sound of cars on the main road, half a mile away. It’s peaceful for once, with no monsters or imminent catastrophes in sight, and they both can feel some of the tension accumulated over years of the life slowly fade._

_“If you’re an alien, you’re gonna need an alien name,” Winn suddenly pipes in, cheerful as only he can be._

_“Got any thoughts?”_

_“Actually, yeah. I was thinking Mon-El. What do you think?”_

_“I think it’s great,” whispers Mike, slightly tightening his hold over Winn’s waist. “Maybe that should be your nickname for me.”_

_“Hm, but Mon-El is kind of a mouthful. And it sounds kinda formal. I’ll just call you Mon.”_

_“Sounds good to me.”_

_They fall asleep over the hood of the truck that night, not even caring when a sudden downpour wakes them up at three AM. They know they’ll probably get a cold and Kara and Alex will mother them until they’re back to full health; but for now they’re together, and they’re happy, and it’s all they could ever wish for._

oOo

The motel room is absolutely identical to the dozens, maybe hundreds of motel rooms Mike’s stayed in during the course of his life, down to the disposition of the frankly depressingly tacky furniture. He barely registers the details anymore as he dumps his duffel bag unceremoniously over the bed, the guns inside rattling. The part of his mind that tends to speak with Alex’s voice immediately rises up, chiding him for being so careless with his weapons.

_Weapons are always a hunter’s first priority, Mike. If your gun gets jammed, if your knife is blunt, you’re dead. Capisce? D-E-A-D._

A tired smile rises to his lips and he makes a mental note to bring that particular quote to his regular teasing games with Kara. He’s sure she’ll enjoy it.

But the smile is as quick to go as it came, and he sits down on the flimsy chair, opening his laptop to pull up several local news tabs. He browses quickly through them (all the while taking out his notes and scattering them all over the table in a mess only he can actually make sense of, something his friends always complain about when they hunt with him), only focusing on the weird ones, whatever sounds like the work of a demon. After a year of going through this process at least once a week he’s gotten rather good at it, and soon enough there are four articles speaking of deaths under more than strange conditions open on his browser, all of them no longer than two weeks old.

Mike knows deep inside that the killings do match everything he’s seen the demon do in the past year, but he still opens the file and compares the new articles with the ones he’s compiled. Thoroughness is one of the first things Jeremiah and Eliza taught him when researching. Nothing can be left to chance.

He has to contain a lurch of his stomach (which doesn’t make _any_ sense. He’s a hunter for God’s sake. He’s seen worse things than this) as he scans the paragraphs, highlighting the details that are almost identical until the only logical conclusion is that yes, it is the same killer. Rubbing his eyes tiredly with one hand, Mike grabs an open map of the city from the other side of the table and slides it over to his side.

He’s about to start marking potential places for setting up a trap when his phone starts ringing, the stupid little ringtone betraying the caller’s identity as Kara. Mike picks up the phone and stares at it for a second, briefly considering actually answering before deciding against it. Instead, he just ends the call and throws the phone back onto the table, where it lands with a dull thud.

It’s not long before it starts ringing again.

When the phone is ringing for the seventh time in a row, the ringtones having alternated between Kara, Alex, Lena, John and even James (which, _odd_. Last he heard, he and Lucy were still lending a hand to some old friends in Wales) Mike lets out an exasperated sigh and decides he’s had enough, angrily typing _Not dead_ into the group chat his adoptive sisters forced him into, followed by a sarcastic _Happy?_ just so they know it’s actually him. Hopefully it’ll shut them up long enough for him to finish preparing the trap for the demon.

He should have known better, he thinks as the phone starts ringing again, this time with the little bell of the chat. Half of his brain wants to ignore it just like he did the phone calls, but a month is a long time, and he can’t deny he _really_ misses his sisters and even a chat conversation will probably help his mental state a lot more than diving into research and planning once more. So he sets aside his notes and laptop for the time being and focuses on his phone, reassuring Aled and Kara that yes, he is eating and getting enough sleep, and no, he hasn’t gotten any serious injuries since the last time they talked. An hour and several small smiles at his sisters’ antics later, he ends up receiving an avalanche of advice and tips and ends up with a better plan than anything he could’ve cooked up by himself.

oOo

_The door bangs loudly as Mike storms into the room, throwing his shotgun and machete over the bed and immediately turning to face Winn, who’s closing the door with only slightly more delicacy._

_“What the hell were you thinking, Winn?! You could have gotten killed!”_

_“As opposed to, I don’t know, every single hunt ever? We’re hunters, Mike, our job is to get in stupid, crazy danger and hope against hope that we’ll come out of it alive and having saved at least one person!”_

_“That doesn’t mean that you have to throw yourself head first and fucking_ alone _into a vampire nest! Goddammit, if I had gotten there one second later...”_

_“But you didn’t! Fuck, Mike, why are you making such a fuss?”_

_Mike is left speechless for a second because, yes, why is he making such a fuss? Sure, Winn is his best friend, but Mike also knows he’s a more than capable hunter, perfectly able to take care of himself. So why, why is he making such a big deal out of one narrow miss? It’s not like he hasn’t been in this sort of situations before._

_“Like I thought. Well, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna take a shower so we can get moving ASAP. Hopefully we’ll get back early enough for Lena to whip us up something good. I swear that woman’s a goddess in the kitchen.”_

_He watches Winn make his way to the bathroom, his mouth going suddenly dry as Winn sheds his shirt without an ounce of embarrassment. It’s something they’ve done a million times in front of each other, mostly because they’re both too lazy to hide in the bathroom to change, especially if the only other person in the room is their best friend. It’s as natural as their easy banter, as familiar as the insanely loud music they play when driving. Except now it’s not. And Mike’s heart starts pounding against his chest when he realizes exactly why it is he couldn’t deal rationally with the fact Winn decided to go alone into a vampire nest._

_He remembers with growing apprehension the little talk he and Kara had before he’d left for the hunt, when she had accused him of having a crush on Winn. Of course, he’d automatically denied it, spluttering into his beer when she smiled slyly and suggested Winn felt the same._

Fuck. She was right.

_“Hey, you alright? Mike, you there?”_

_Winn’s voice snaps him out of his reverie and he suddenly realizes he’s been standing in the middle of the room long enough for Winn to have finished showering and returned to his side. He notices, mouth still dry, that Winn hasn’t put on a shirt yet._

_“Uh, yeah, what-what’s going on?”_

_“Nothing, you’ve just been standing there since I stepped into the shower and that was like, ten minutes ago. At least. You sure you’re okay?”_

_“Yeah, absolutely sure. I was just uh... thinking about some things.”_

Smooth, Mike. Real smooth.

_Winn’s frown says clearly that he doesn’t believe him, but to Mike’s relief he doesn’t press matters. He only moves past Mike to get to the bed and rummages through the bag until he finds a shirt that he promptly tugs on. Mike is still standing in the middle of the room when a shirt collides with his head, shocking him into motion._

_“What the...”_

_“You need a shower too,” shrugs Winn innocently._ _“You’re covered in blood. Don’t wanna scare the lovely folks outside, do we now, Michael?”_

_Mike stares at the shirt for a few seconds before shaking his head and making his way to the bathroom. Hopefully a shower will help him clear his head. After all, it’s not everyday you discover you happen to have a crush the size of Russia on your best friend. And hearing Winn call him Michael has definitely done things to him he does_ not _want to think about. Dammit._

oOo

It’s a matter of time before he finally pins down the demon’s usual stalking/hunting territory now that he has decided to include his sisters and friends into the effort (mostly. He still wants to do the whole thing alone, but a little help in planning and Maggie’s more than helpful input with security cameras are quite welcome). Said territory happens to be one of the biggest bars in the neighborhood that Mike has settled in, so it won’t be difficult to actually find him. The hard part will be to lure the creature into the trap he’s prepared in the old warehouse not three blocks down that Alex found for him.

But there’s no point in worrying himself over that now. Everything has been carefully prepared, and he knows that with so many people helping him, nothing will be left to chance. Maggie has promised to monitor the cameras until the demon shows up so he can have at least some advantage, but from then on he has requested to be left alone. Thankfully, everyone was understanding and agreed he needed to do it alone.

So he tugs his leather jacket on and takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for what will probably be the most difficult hunt he’s ever done in his life, including his very first. As he makes his way to the bar, he revises every step of the plan, making sure he has it so engraved in his mind every action will be automatic. Mike knows he can’t really trust himself to make decisions on the fly on this occasion. He also knows he needs to make sure he doesn’t act as if in a normal hunt. The demon knows enough about him now that anything resembling his usual hunting patterns will send his carefully thought out plan out the window.

 

The bar is as packed and as noisy as it can be expected on a Friday night. Mike wanders in with the attitude of someone who has been to dozens of places like this and gets a drink before settling into a table in the corner from where he has an excellent view of the door. If the information he collected over the past few days is right, the demon should enter in about five to ten minutes. If there is something the creature is, it’s punctual.

Right on schedule, the demon walks through the door exactly six minutes later.

Mike’s heart clenches painfully at the sight of his boyfriend looking so... normal. As if he hadn’t been missing for over a year, as if he hadn’t killed over twenty people in that time, becoming his own worst nightmare. As if he wasn’t carrying a demon inside.

_“You know, if I’m feeling really generous, I may let you find the body. Give you something to burn. Or_ maybe _I’ll just make him kill himself in front of you and leave him just in time for him to say some poignant last words to you. That would be fun.”_

Yet, it’s easy for Mike to recognize this is definitely not the man he loves. For starters, Winn would never wear a leather jacket, despite years of insistence on his part. He would never... strut like that into a place either, instead choosing to remain in the shadows, unnoticed, overlooked until he gave the final blow. There’s an easiness to the demon’s movement that Winn had always lacked, as if the creature possessing the body was more comfortable in it than Winn. This is not his boyfriend, Mike has to pointedly remind himself over and over, clutching the beer tightly in his hand to the point he’s sure anymore pressure and the bottle will crack.

“It’s not him, it’s not him, it’s not him, it’s not him...” he mutters under his breath in a monotonous litany, the shock of seeing Winn for the first time in a year easing slowly.

There is still the gnawing feeling of _wrong_ eating him up inside, but he can work with that. He can use it, just like he can use his anger.

He casually moves to the bar and leans over to ask for another beer, watching from the corner of his eye to the demon lazily leaning against the counter, waiting with his heart in his throat for the inevitable moment when it catches sight of him. First step: getting the demon’s attention. A few seconds later, a small sense of victory runs through him as he sees the demon’s eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise. Good. That means the slip up it made by getting caught on a camera was actually a slip up and not some sort of trap.

Mike walks back to his table, the tingling at the back of his head assuring him he still has the demon’s eyes glued to him. This is the complicated part, the one his plan hangs on by a thin thread of ifs. If the demon doesn’t realize he’s faking not having seen it, if it actually feels curious enough to follow him outside, if it doesn’t choose to attack him on the way to the warehouse, if he manages to get it into the devil’s trap before the demon realizes what he’s doing...

Mike’s heart is pounding in his chest, louder than he’s ever felt it, especially on a hunt. He’s usually the calm one, the one that can wait until the last moment to make his move, the one who can bluff his way out of almost any situation. But right now he feels as inexperienced and frightened as he did when he was facing the ifrit that destroyed his family, like a little kid playing to be a warrior. He swallows it all and focuses on his acting, on bluffing his way out of one more situation, the most important one yet.

He quickly types a message to Alex, who will call him back and act as the other part he needs to set up the bait. Hopefully, his actions will pique the demon’s interest enough to get it moving. Right on cue, his phone starts ringing. He inspects the demon’s actions again from the corner of his eye, containing a small victory smile as he watches it lean forward toward him. He continues to act through the phone call, even though there’s no one actually talking to him, and frowns when it ends, shutting the communication with a brief and clear “I’ll be there in five” that he knows the demon will have read on his lips. Winn knows how, after all.

Moving with the frantic gestures of a man who has just received some important news, he stands up and throws a bill on the table before walking fast out of the bar. Half of him is urging him to look back and make sure the demon is following, but the rational, cold and harsh part of him knows he can’t. He can’t risk it all just to be sure.

A few seconds later, once he has already started walking down the dark alley that’ll lead to the warehouse, he hears the soft tap of footsteps behind him.

Mike feels a small bubble of tension in his chest burst as he catches sight of a moving figure from the corner of his eye when he discreetly turns his head. The demon took the bait.

oOo

_Mike is tired. He’s been running all over the country (well, driving, but it still counts) for two months now, chasing a monster that shouldn’t even be here, and the only reason they sent him after it is because he was the one to figure out how to deal with the ifrit that killed his and Kara’s families. They could’ve just called Cat and sent someone else. So yeah, Mike’s tired and it hits him like a ton of bricks the second he walks out of the car, as if he’d been running on pure adrenaline for the last few miles. He wants a shower, he wants his bed, but most importantly he wants a decent beer and a decent meal cooked by the absolute goddess of cooking that is Lena Luthor. So of course, knowing his luck, the moment he steps into the diner, everything starts going wrong._

_There’s a guy in his seat. He’s not even eating or drinking, he’s just sitting there, typing obnoxiously fast on his ridiculous laptop. Not that the laptop itself is ridiculous, for all his limited knowledge of computers Mike knows it's a better laptop than most, but the amount of sheer_ nerd _accumulated in the stickers that litter the back makes it ridiculous to his exhausted eyes._

_“You’re in my seat,” he deadpans, absolutely serious as he drops his bag on the ground._

_The guy jumps in his seat and turns around to face him, more exasperated than frightened._ That’s new _, thinks Mike. From what he’s been told, he can be quite scary when he’s tired._

_“Well, Sheldon, I’ve been sitting here for hours so technically, it’s my seat. Besides, it’s the best wi-fi spot.”_

_And with that he turns back to his laptop, not even sparing a glance toward the newly flabbergasted Mike._

_“_ _You’re rude,” he concludes a few second later, after he’s resigned himself to not getting his seat and promptly plopping down on the one next to it. “And you’re still in my seat and I don’t like you.”_

_“And you either constantly act like a petulant five year old or you’ve been drinking,” the stranger retorts without missing a beat. After a quick glance at Mike, though, he frowns and turns fully to look at him. “Or you’re exhausted. When was the last time you slept, dude? You look awful.”_

_Mike shrugs and decides the counter looks rather comfortable, so he nearly slams his forehead against it._

_“Don’t know. Been driving for forever. And it ain’t none of your business.”_

_The stranger hums skeptically._

_“Right,” he seems to hesitate for a few seconds, then straightens up and raises his voice. “Hey, Lena!”_

_The woman is almost immediately at their side, flashing her ever present warm smile._

_“Winn, what can I get you?” the barely there remains of her British accent seep into her speech, making every word she says sound slightly more fancy than it actually is._

_“It’s not for me. This guy looks dead on his feet, you got someplace he can crash?”_

_Mike wearily lifts his head a few inches from the table, flashing Lena what is supposed to be a greeting smile but probably looks more like a grimace. Lena immediately lets out a chuckle._

_“You know, Mike, you could’ve warned you were coming back today. I would’ve prepared you something beforehand.”_

_“Sorry,” mumbles Mike. “Phone died. Lost my charger.”_

_“Of course you did. I’m gonna go get your sisters so they can drag your sorry ass to bed. Don’t worry, Winn,”_ _she adds toward the stranger. “We got this covered.”_

_The stranger -Winn- hums and returns to his work one more time. A few moments later, a hand jolts Mike from the light slumber he’d fallen into, and he’s greeted with the sight of his sisters, Kara looking as chipper as always and Alex with her patented fond-yet-disapproving look._

_“Hey, girls,” he greets, half heartedly lifting his hand to wave before deciding against it and dropping it back. “Long time no see.”_

_“Yeah, long time no call either,” retorts Alex, softly punching him in the shoulder._

_“Sorry. Phone died. No charger.”_

_“Why am I not surprised?” she sighs tiredly. “Come on, let’s get you to bed. You look like you need it.”_

_Between the two women, they stand him up and manage to make him walk a few steps on his own, though they both remain at his sides, vigilant should he start to sway. Before they can get too far, Mike leans toward Kara._

_“Kara?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Who’s the guy sitting in my seat?” he stages whispers._

_Kara lets out a chuckle and throws a glance to the stranger who is clearly listening to their conversation despite looking intently at the screen of his laptop._

_“That is Winn Schott and you guys are gonna get properly introduced after you get some sleep in your system because you can be very rude when you’re tired.”_

_“Okay. But he better not be in my seat. That’s rude.”_

oOo

“You know, I underestimated you. You turned out to be surprisingly more persistent than I expected,” the demon says nonchalantly as it saunters into the dimly lit warehouse.

It stops a few feet away from the devil’s trap and Mike has to resist the temptation to grit his teeth in frustration. _Keep it talking, keep it talking_.

“Am I supposed to feel honored or something?”

For a long time anger and sarcasm were the only ways he knew how to communicate, back in the days after the ifrit, before he found Kara, before he found Winn. Now it’s the only way he can talk that will mask how much it hurts to hear the demon talk with Winn’s voice.

“Knowing you, you definitely wouldn't. _But_ , I have to admit, I thought you would have given up by now. After all, it’s been a year.”

“You wish,” spits Mike, stepping slightly to his right in hopes of making the demon mimic his movement.

“I wish a lot of things, kiddo, but even I have to admit that going around killing people is not half as fun when there’s no one to chase you. The game we’ve been playing makes it all the more... exhilarating don’t you think?”

He ignores both the taunt and the now familiar clench of his heart and plays the part he knows the demon’s expecting, because Winn knows him better than he knows himself and now the demon knows everything Winn knows.

He forces the facial and body expressions that will be recognized as barely contained anger and pain. He lets his voice tremble in all the right words, playing the role of a broken man who still refuses to admit defeat, even when it’s staring at him in the face.

He just needs to get it a few more steps to the right.

The demon moves around the place like its strolling in the park, making lazy zigzagging patterns that have absolutely nothing to do with Winn’s usual demeanours. Mike has to contain the urges to clench his fists in anger, knowing that it’ll set off the demon’s alarms. He’s generally angry in hunts, it helps him focus. Broken? Never. So that’s the part he plays, moving backwards and to his right as if trying to escape the demon.

And then it happens. The demon suddenly stops right in its tracks and gives an awkward lurch forwards, a glare appearing in its face when it realizes what has happened.

“Clever,” it hisses. “Wasn’t expecting that one. What did you do? Ceiling?”

“Invisible ink,” is the smug answer. “Maggie’s idea, actually.”

“Pesky little agent. Knew it would bite me in the ass not to have killed her when I had the chance.”

Mike has to contain his anger once more at the thought of the demon killing one of his friends. If there’s anything that would’ve broken Winn for sure, it would’ve been to be forced to watch as his own body killed one of his closest friends.

“The only thing you would’ve have accomplished by killing Maggie is to set a hunter that can be way more vicious than I am on your sorry ass.”

“Oh yeah, your sister, right? Aaalex. Wouldn’t have been the best idea, I agree, but still. It would’ve been sooo fun. Friends are always the best. I mean, you should have heard your little boy’s pleas when I murdered the first one, can you just _imagine_ how it would’ve been if I had actually gotten my hands on Maggie? Oh boy, I get all excited by just imagining it.”

“You’re sick.”

The demon exhales a tired sigh and emits a loud “duh” that reverberates all over the warehouse.

“I’m a demon, dumbass, what did you expect? Flowers and rainbows? Hugs for everyone? You know, for a hunter, you’re not that smart.”

“Smarter than you thought, at least. Got you in that trap, didn’t I?”

The demon narrows its eyes and scowls.

“Well, as fun as this conversation has been, as you oh so kindly pointed out, you have me in a devil’s trap. Checkmate, you win. Why haven’t you exorcised me yet?”

“I want to know why. Why you took him, why you’ve been killing people at random. Why?”

The demon lets out a long, exasperated sigh.

“Isn’t it obvious? Because it’s _fun_! With the entirety of Hell and Heaven running around like headless chickens, power fights all over the place and no divine intervention in the foreseeable future, there’s nothing and no one to stop me from having a little fun. And between the two of us, killing humans is a lot more entertaining when you’re doing it immediately and by hand instead of waiting those accursed ten years.”

Mike feels anger bubble up inside his chest and it’s all he can do not to start insulting the thing at the top of his lungs. It wouldn’t do any good. He got his answer anyway, time to get it over with.

“You wanna know something funny, though? Turns out that-”

“ _Exorcizamus te, Omnis Immundus Spiritus, Omnis Satanica Potestas_ ”

Mike’s voice rings clearly in the empty warehouse, cutting off whatever it was about to say, and it’s all he can do to keep it steady as the demon starts screaming with Winn’s voice.

“ _Omnis Incursio Infernalis Adversarii, Omnis Congregatio et Secta Diabolica, Ergo Draco Maledicte_ ,”

He watches Winn-the demon, the _demon_ he has to remind himself- writhe and groan in pain, forcing himself to raise his voice until he’s shouting the words, spewing memorized Latin phrases with a butchered pronunciation and a laughable accent that he knows would make Winn snort. The hacker had always been the expert in demons, after all.

“ _Ut Ecclesiam Tuam Servire, Tibi Facias Libertate Secura, Te Rogamus, Audi Nos!_ ”

As soon as the last word leaves his mouth, black smoke pours out of Winn’s mouth, a loud, screeching scream echoing all over the warehouse as the demon is sent back the filthy pit it crawled out of. Mike can only hope Hell’s as horrible as every demon seems to think and even worse, somewhat bitterly wishing there was a way to actually kill the damn things without hurting the possessed people.

But all other thoughts are dismissed as he sees Winn fall to his knees almost in slow motion and he’s suddenly right there at his side to catch him, knife and gun flung aside in what’s possibly the most stupid action a hunter can ever perform. He doesn’t care.

“Winn? Winn, can you hear me? It’s me. It’s Mike. Mon.”

He keeps babbling strings of unconnected words, the irrational fear that at some point the demon chose to just kill Winn practically overriding his capability for rational thought. But then, finally - _finally_ \- the body in his arms starts to stir and he finds himself looking into the depths of a pair of dark eyes he was starting to lose hope he’d see again.

“M-Mike? You... you’re here.”

Winn’s voice is painfully weak now that the demon’s left him.

“Yeah. I’m here. I’m right here, Winn, I’m not going anywhere.”

The smile he gets in return almost makes him cry. Mike readjusts his grip over Winn’s shoulders and leans into the touch when Winn lifts a trembling hand to cup his cheek.

“Mon?”

“Yeah?”

“When was the last time you shaved?”

The chuckle that escapes Mike’s lips is wet with tears because of course Winn’s first words after a year would be a thinly veiled attempt to make sure he hadn’t run himself down in his obsession.

“God, I’ve missed you,” is all he answers, pressing his forehead against Winn’s and letting out a long breath.

“I missed you too.”

They stay like that for a long time, kneeling in the cold, hard ground of a random warehouse, just basking in each other’s presence, until Mike finally speaks up.

“We should get back to my motel room so we can get a good night’s sleep and hit the road tomorrow morning. Kara is going to kill us if we’re not at the dinner by tomorrow night.”

Winn’s shoulders shake with a small chuckle.

“Knowing you, babe, she’ll have plenty other reasons to kill you when we get back.”

“Back for two minutes and already sassing me,” mutters Mike as he passes one of Winn’s arms over his shoulders and helps him stand up.

“You know you love it.”

“I know I love you. Your sass, still up for debate.”

They make their way to the truck slowly, exchanging soft words every now and then. There is a slight tension in the air still, but neither wants to address it, so they settle for the familiar jokes that make their safe territory for now. Mike isn’t stupid, though. He knows at some point they’ll have to talk about everything that happened, about their respective experiences during the course of the past year. He’s more than happy to leave it for another day.

A fond smile stretches Winn’s lips as they finally reach for the truck and he leans down a bit to place his hand over the battered vehicle.

“You have no idea how much I missed this old piece of junk.”

Mike can’t help but let out a chuckle.

“Trust me, I can imagine. You’re not driving, though.”

“Oh, come on, man! It’s been a year!”

“Yeah, and you can barely stand.”

“Who said anything about standing?”

Mike chuckles again and kisses Winn’s cheek softly.

“Tell you what, I’ll make you a deal. When you get some rest in you, I’ll let you drive it for the next two months. Deal?”

“Fine. Deal.”

With that they climb into the truck and settle inside it in a way that feels so familiar they both exhale a long, content sigh and exchange a bright smile. Probably the brightest they’ve worn in a long, long year. Mike starts the engine and pulls off the sidewalk. The first few meters are driven in silence, but he keeps throwing glances at Winn, as if to make sure he won’t disappear if he blinks.

“Here,” he finally says, pulling a wooden necklace from the glove compartment. “You can wear this for now, just until we can fix your anti-possession tattoo.”

He watches Winn tug on the necklace somewhat paranoidly from the corner of his eye, which, of course, doesn’t go unnoticed by the other man.

“You do know I’m not gonna disappear the moment you take your eyes off me, right?”

“Sorry,” mutters Mike, turning his gaze back to the street. “I just... I guess I’m still feeling somewhat insecure.”

A hand closes around his and he has to contain a tearful smile. Everything about the touch is familiar, from the callouses on the fingers (from handling guns and typing on computers) to the exact amount of pressure Winn applies, the one that conveys without words: _I’m here, I love you, we’ll get through this together_. Mike twists his hand so he can entwine their fingers and returns the gentle squeeze.

“Welcome home,” he whispers almost imperceptibly, though the smile that tugs the corner of Winn’s mouth tells him he has been heard.

oOo

_“Everything okay?”_

_The only response he gets is the short motion with which Winn swallows his whiskey, followed by a sharp gesture for Lena to refill his glass._

_“Siobhan broke up with me. She said, and I quote, ‘you may be one of the best hunters of our generation, Winn, but when it comes to feelings you’re an idiot’.”_

_“Ouch,” grimaces Mike in sympathy, trying to ignore the elated leap of his heart at the news._

_“Yeah. It was never gonna work anyway, so I guess it’s for the best.”_

_“Why would you say that? It looked like you guys were going solid.”_

_Winn raises a sarcastic eyebrow._

_“After three months? Not to mention the first two of those months it was basically a friend with benefits thing, so all in all, we had been dating for a month.”_

_“Okay,” concedes Mike as he tips his beer, “maybe not that solid.”_

_They remain in silence for a long time, just drinking and watching as one by one the customers of the diner leave until it’s just them, Maggie and Alex playing their umpteenth game of pool, and Lena on the furthest side of the counter, wiping a glass absentmindedly while throwing regular glances at the door._

_“_ _You know what sucks the most?” asks Winn all of a sudden, slamming his once more empty glass over the wood._

_“What?”_

_“She may have been as bitchy as only miss Siobhan Smythe can be, but she was right. I am an idiot when it comes to feelings.”_

_“No, you’re not.”_

_“Yes, I am. I mean, what kind of idiot doesn’t realize he has a massive crush on his best friend?”_

_Once again, Mike has to ignore the leap of his heart._ He’s obviously talking about Kara _, he mentally scolds himself._ Winn’s not into guys _._

_“I know a few,” is what he answers._ Me, for starters _. “It’s not that bad.”_

_“Yes it is. I should’ve just listened to Kara. As usual, really.”_

_Mike frowns, not sure he’s heard correctly._

_“You... what?”_

_“God, you’re an idiot too,” is all the warning he gets before Winn grabs him by the collar of his shirt and slams their mouths together._

_It’s sloppy, messy and the kind of awkward only slightly drunken kisses can be, and all the while Mike’s brain is essentially short circuiting._

What the- he’s kissing me? You idiot, he’s kissing you! Do something!

_By the time he’s managed to pull himself together and figure out_ he should be kissing back _, Winn has already pulled back, cheeks aflame._

_“Uum, sorry about that- I don’t- I don’t know what came over me, I am so sorry, I swear it won’t happen again. God, I should’ve known you weren’t into guys, no matter what Kara says...”_

_“Winn,” interrupts Mike, placing his hand over the other’s mouth and immediately lowering it once it has fulfilled its purpose. “Don't be sorry. You just caught me by surprise.”_

_“So you...”_

_Mike nods softly, a giddy smile threatening to stretch his lips._

_“_ _Okay, so can I...” Winn wets his lips nervously, glancing down briefly at Mike’s mouth. “Can I do that again?”_

_“As many times as you want.”_

_Their lips meet once more, briefly, before Winn is pulling away with an amused smirk._

_“That was cheesy as hell, Mike.”_

_“I know. Now shut up and kiss me.”_

_For the third time that evening, their mouths meet, and they take their time to savour it, completely ignoring Alex’s knowing snickers. Mike is perfectly content with ignoring his adoptive sister as long as he gets to enjoy Winn’s mouth over his. Until, of course, Kara’s voice echoes from the entry._

_“AHA! I KNEW IT!”_

oOo

They enter the motel room tiredly, the exhaustion of the day finally taking its toll on the two of them. If they ignore the little (not so little) details, like the nervous twitch of Winn’s hand or the triple check Mike does in every direction, they can almost pretend everything is normal, that they’re just coming back from another regular hunt. It’s not as easy as it sounds.

Mike closes and locks the door as soon as he’s crossed the threshold, making sure to check the lock twice. He knows he’s bordering on the obsessive and paranoid behavior, but the weight on his chest that tells him it was all too easy, that it’s just too good to be true is even harder to ignore. So he just throws his gun and knife onto the bed and promptly plops down himself, letting his shoulders sag in exhaustion and relief. _It’s been a long year_ , he thinks as he watches Winn sit down next to him.

“I thought we’d gotten you past the ‘let’s throw my weapons carelessly onto the closest available surface’ phase,” is the phrase that breaks the silence.

Mike chuckles (he can’t laugh, not yet) and doesn’t let the tears spill because he can’t begin to deal with how messed up it is his boyfriend is the one comforting him and not the other way around.

“I guess old habits die hard. Some harder than others.”

Now it’s Winn’s turn to chuckle as he leans into Mike, the familiar weight of his head settling over Mike’s shoulder.

“I’m tired, Mon. I feel like I could sleep for a month.”

Mike doesn’t answer right away, merely wraps an arm around his boyfriend and hopes it’ll be enough for now.

“Do you want to take a shower?” he asks. “I can get you some of your clothes from the truck, then we’ll just sleep and deal with everything else tomorrow.”

“Sounds good,” answers Winn tiredly. “And we can burn these clothes too,” he adds tugging somewhat disgustedly at the black T-shirt he’s wearing. They both know the stiffer patches that litter it are not from food stains.

Mike presses a kiss to Winn’s temple and gently nudges him up.

“You go get in the shower, babe. I’ll get your clothes.”

Winn responds with a quick peck on the cheek and a whispered “I love you”. They’ve never been especially good at saying it loud the way Maggie and Alex or Lena and Kara are, all easy smiles and soft words at every given occasion; they’re more fleeting touches and special smiles, the kind of little gestures that only hold meaning to each other. But Mike knows in his gut they’ll be saying it loud with a lot more frequency in the foreseeable future, at least until they can remove the memory of the demon from that particular aspect of their lives. So he whispers it back and stands up, waiting until he sees Winn entering the bathroom and hears him shedding his clothes to unlock the door and quickly slip out, making a beeline for the truck despite it being only a few meters away. He retrieves the duffel bag even faster and is back into the room in record time, exhaling a long, relieved sigh as he sags against the door.

_You’re seriously messed up, buddy_ , the Alex part of his conscience chimes in, and he can’t help but agree with it.

He ruffles through the bag for a few moments and lays out a few pieces of clothing over the bed, before sitting on it once more. Exhaling a long sigh, he rubs a tired hand over his cheek and can’t help but smile softly.

_When was the last time you shaved?_

With tired gestures, he extracts a razor and a can of shaving cream from his bag and enters the bathroom, setting to work on removing the near indecent stubble he’s been working with for the past few weeks.

He notices the shower is almost silent, the only sounds being the running water and Winn’s slightly heavy breathing. Mike’s heart clenches sadly when he remembers how the showers were usually filled with purposely out of tune singing (Winn’s a pretty good singer, he discovered after one of the first karaoke nights at Lena’s diner). But then again, he’s not in the best shape either. There are dark shadows under his eyes and most importantly behind them, where he knows they’ll be much harder to exorcise than the demon that forced so much pain on them.

“Mon?”

He belatedly notices the shower was turned off and Winn’s now standing next to him, a towel wrapped around his waist. Mike turns his back on the mirror and faces his boyfriend, noting with slightly more optimism that even a year of demonic possession wasn’t enough to wipe the shadow of a smile that always nests in the left corner of Winn’s mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. For... you know, not giving up on me.”

Instead of answering directly, Mike wraps a hand around Winn’s waist and pulls him in for a long and passionate kiss, making sure to convey all his love and devotion into such a simple action.

“Never,” he whispers when they resurface, his heart fluttering as Winn smiles and pulls him back for a new kiss.

They’re not okay, he knows, neither of them. Not by a long shot. They most definitely won’t let each other out of their sights anytime soon. There will be sleepless nights and other nights where they’ll wake up in a cold sweat, gasping each other’s names and blindingly searching for the warm comfort of the other’s body. There will be bad days and difficult hunts, and they’ll have to deal with the near constant worry of their little mismatched family. But they’ll get through it together. They always do.

**Author's Note:**

> Quick backstories for some of the mentioned characters:  
> Kara: her entire family was killed by an ifrit. She decided to become a hunter to keep other people from suffering the way she did, but eventually retired from the active life and settled for offering support to other hunters. Runs the diner with Lena
> 
> Alex: born into the hunting business, her father was killed by a shapeshifter. Her family took in Kara and Michael/Mon and trained them as hunters. The three of them usually hunted as a team.
> 
> Mon-El/Michael Danvers: his entire family was killed by the same ifrit that killed Kara’s family, which is how he met her and later the Danvers. His field of expertise are Middle Eastern creatures. 
> 
> Lena: adopted into a family of the British Men of Letters. Disagreeing with their way of dealing with the supernatural, and after her older brother goes rogue, she moves to the States where she opens a diner (sort of like the Roadhouse) that acts as safe house and rallying point for hunters. The diner is also neutral territory, whatever quarrels hunters have with each other don’t run inside.
> 
> Winn: goes into hunting after his father gets possessed by a demon and goes on a killing spree. Expert hacker, his field of expertise are demons.
> 
> John Henshaw (J’onn/Hank): runs a network of hunters. He decided to create this network in order to coordinate efforts after a run in with another hunter that almost ended up with the both of them dying. Keeps close contact with Lena and Kara, often using the diner as HQ. Close family friend to the Danvers family.
> 
> Cat: sort of like Bobby from Supernatural. Knows everything there is to know about the supernatural, her house is the safe house by definition.
> 
> Maggie: FBI agent who knows about the supernatural. She helps the hunters with the more complicated cases and covers the unresolved cases when needed. Is dating Alex.
> 
> Also, I got the exorcism from the Supernatural wiki page.
> 
> (This was one long ass one shot)
> 
> (Please let me know of any typos or mistakes so I can fix them. Would be largely appreciated)
> 
> Hope you liked it! Leave your thoughts in the comments :)


End file.
